


When in Rome

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Carpe Diem, Classics, Gen, John Henry learning, Roman poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Henry learns about the classics from Ellison; Weaver is excited that he's so adept at learning new things. Appearance by Savannah in a possibly schmoopy scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When in Rome

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tscc_las on livejournal for the prompt "Carpe Diem"

"Carpe Diem," Catherine Weaver said slowly, her voice round and slow, like she wasn't wasn't sure if she liked the taste of words.

"Sieze the day," Ellison said, nodding, not taking his eyes off John Henry, who was seated at the table across from him. He always stared directly at John Henry, like he was still an agent, like he was interrogating rather than educating. Weaver was amused by how habitual humans were.

John Henry connected to a reference to look up the phrase and told them, "Made famous by a Roman poet. It can also be translated as 'Pluck the day.'" He smiled.

Catherine smiled back. "They're comparing time to fruit," she said, knowing that she could be speaking of people in general or poets specifically.

"What kind of fruit?" John Henry asked.

Weaver savored the question, the fraction of a second of something like surprise, when she would have to make adjustments to accommodate John Henry asking something no one could predict.

Then she looked at Mr. Ellison for an answer; it seemed like his type of question.

But he just shrugged. "I suppose an apple would be appropriate," he said, and she was fairly certain he was being droll.

"Or a peach," Catherine suggested helpfully, she believed. She had tried peaches once, so delicate they could fall apart even under a human touch.

John Henry nodded and looked, for lack of a better word, contemplative.

Finally, he said, "Maybe I should say 'Sieze the microsecond.' To keep the measurement to scale."

Catherine mulled this over. It was a good point. Her boy really was so very bright - not because he thought of proportions (anyone could do that), but because he had such curiosity about how their sayings might apply to him. Such an effortless sense of self.

But Mr. Ellison was frowning as if that answer weren't right. Which, she supposed, was what Mr. Ellison was there for.

He prodded John Henry, "But what if I said, 'This is a brand new day'? Or 'Today is the day'? What would that mean to you, John Henry?" He leaned on the word 'mean,' as if he weren't sure if he hoped John Henry knew what meaning is or not.

John Henry thought again, then jumped to where he assumed the conversation was going. "People don't understand that the rotation of the planet is an arbitrary way to measure time."

Weaver smiled approvingly as she stood behind a frowning Mr. Ellison, out of his sight. John Henry surely saw her encouragement, but he was always always discreet about her in front of Ellison.

"No, John Henry," Ellison replied, "A day is a new beginning every morning, a new opportunity to be who you should be. It's a reminder that life moves in cycles."

John Henry looked perplexed at this, as if he couldn't see what one thing had to do with another. Not that Catherine disagreed. But her assistant came in with matters to attend to, and she was content to let them have their lesson without her. Understanding why 'days' meant so much to some beings was hardly her area of expertise.

She came back to them when - presumably after the lesson had been completed - Mr. Ellison called to inform her - rather emotionally - that Savannah was gone.

This time, it wasn't a game. John Henry told them that Savannah would be back shortly, and she was. She had taken money from the emergency expense box and pursued a subversive goal.

Savannah and John Henry wanted a puppy. They were going to get one.

Today.

"Carpe diem," Savannah announced to Weaver and Ellison, grinning a toothy smile as she held up a chocolate-brown puppy. Weaver quickly stepped out to observe from the outside room, saying something about allergies, and the puppy stopped barking soon after.

"Do you know what 'Carpe Diem' means?" Ellison asked Savannah then, smiling and relieved. Less hostile than when he asked John Henry that same question.

Savannah laughed as if it were simple. "It means that we don't have forever. John Henry says I'll probably only live 27,000 more days. So ... if we get the chance to sieze a puppy then we should."

Ellison looked toward the window that Weaver was staring through. It was strange for him, to hear Savannah speak like this, cheerful though she was. Weaver, of course, seemed more concerned with her larger child.

John Henry had leaned over and was putting his hand near the dog. He looked almost... afraid. Not of the dog, per se - like he was afraid of scaring the creature.

"Like this," Savannah said, petting it, and John Henry softly imitated her.

The puppy wagged its tail.

It didn't bark.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ellison noticed Catherine Weaver move. It looked almost - ialmost/i - like she gasped.

He came out to see her then, and she barely looked at him. She kept staring at John Henry and Savannah playing with that animal, some strange patchwork of reactions washing across her face.

Finally, she glanced at him and said, "Now this. This, Mr. Ellison, is a day to hold on to."

She could tell that he was surprised, that he didn't expect her to be so moved. But she couldn't be concerned about Ellison right now; she was too busy enjoying the moment.


End file.
